The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-08-13


by it.
well, real trouble came at last. Our
baby was sick for weeks and weeks, and
we thought he never would get well.
How 1 looked back on the days which
had been so blessed, and wondered how
had ever been able to find trouble in
trifiesl As I prayed that the shadow Of
death might not so early darken our
home, I believed I should never again
allow myself to be moved by small
troubles. I did not have an opportunity
to test my resolution very soon; for as
baby recovered, became ill. For many
day 1 lay far beyond all resolving for
the future; almost, indeed, beyond all
hope of any future, so far as this world is
concerned. The winter had passed be-
fore won my way back to life, and be-
gan to take up it's cares again one by
one.
II held well to my good resolutions as
rejoiced in being able to oversee the
house cleaning, until I came to the parlor
carpet. The room had been shut up for
months, had not been properly aired and
swept, and the moths had made fearful
ravages all around the edges of the car
pet You'll be astonished to hear Elean-
or, that all my equsnimity broke down at
the sight Of it."
"No," I said sympsthizingly, at don't
wonder at all. I've known women that
would be fairly sick over such thing"
cit was beautiful carpet, and had
been very proud of it. I did not find
that anything else had suffered from
neglect through my illness; but I forgot
| all the other pleasant facts in view of this
distressing one. Even when baby crept
over it, growing in delight at the bright
flowers, and trying to pick them with his
chubby little hands, forgot how much
1 would have given, not SO very long ago,
to hear merry note from him. Well,
just as l was at the very elimination of
my pet Aunt Rachel's kindly face
beamed upon me for a weeks visit.
"'Thankful to see thee 80 well, DEAR
was her greeting. The Lord has been
good to thee. Not that don't mean that
he would have been good il thee hadn't
got WE'LL
ayes, I'm very we'll now, thank you,
Aunt Rachel said, after the first in
quiries were over. Well enough, you see
having got past my great troubles, to SET
tie down to small worries. Look here,
isn't this enough to turn the soul of
housekeeper sick?
est is pity she remarked, viewing
the mischief.
"'Of course some things had to be neg
lected while was SICK continued pet
ulantly; but I never dreamed about such
a thing as this
"She looked at me with her quiet eyee,
always so full, used to think, of the
very peace of heaven.
"'Surely Ruth, thee isn't going to make
the matter worse by vexing thy immortal
soul over mishap?
"'Oh, it's very we'll for you to talk that
way, Aunt Rachel replied. But 1
can't afford new carpet just now
Thee doesn't need one. The bad
places doesn't show much
But 1 shall always know they are
there, and it will take away all my peace
of mind
The eyes looked little straighter
into mine as she talked on, something
like this: Thy peace is worth little to
thee or to any one else, il it can be 80
easily broken. Ruth Harvey, thee is
starting out in life; beware that thy dis
position to fret thyself about small things
does not prove curse to thee and thine.
Every thought Of discomfort about mat
tiers beyond thy control is not only sin
against the God who orders for thee, but
sin against thy own soul, and an added
weight to every annoyance. II cherished,
such thoughts become a nest of singing
serpents in thy breast. Thee will grow
old and wrinkled and gray before thy
time. Thee will be peevish, complaining
and fault. finding. Thee will be terror
to thy husband and children.
eyes," continued Mrs. Morrison, "she
said all that and more. She said: +" Is
one thread Of that carpet woven into thy
real peace of mind? Can it, or other small
things really concern thy welfare, or that
of those dear to thee, either for this world
or the nextP"
81 never heard it put quite so strongly
before" said thoughtfully, as my friend
paused. "And if 1 hadn't seen you, 1
should have said it was very good talk
indeed, but that no woman could live up
to it."
81 had week Of it you see," said Mrs.
Morrison. "When Aunt Rachel went
away; one Of the last things she said to
me was: 81 want thee to bear in mind
what i said, dear-that every fretful
thought thee wastes on small accidents
is only so much added to their burden"
at think took it we'll to heart, for 1
concluded, Eleanor, that life's burdens
are heavy enough without any such addi-
ton. And will tell you one thing I
have observed" she added with laugh.
81 d. believe that four-fifths of the wo-
men who feet, do it because they think
it solemn duty"
. T